Pathfinding on Plain
and PrairieChapter XXMy brother a "ready-made
pioneer"—Hunting rabbits— Two roasted rabbits per man for supper—I
find my friend, Firing Stony, in a flourishing condition— Poisoning
wolves—A good morning's sport—I secure a wolf, two foxes and a
mink—Firing Stony poisons his best dog—I enjoy a meal of bear's
ribs—I meet with a severe accident—Samson treats me to a memorable
feast.

This was my brother's first
trip to Pigeon Lake. He had never been seen so far west in his life before.
To him, as to myself, this big country was a constant revelation. After
staying with us a few days, he returned alone to Victoria. Had he not been
by nature and instinct a "ready-made pioneer," I should have hesitated to
let him thus return alone, but in his case I felt no fear.

And now my man and I settled
down to taking out timber and whip-sawing lumber. Nor was this our only
occupation, for we had nets to mend and clean and fish to catch; and to chop
and chisel through the ice and set a net in the dead of a northern winter
was not an easy or comfortable task. Rabbits, fortunately, were numerous
about us at this time, and gave pleasing variety to our table fare. Taking
our dogs and sleds, we would go out a few miles to where the nature of the
country was favorable for these "jumping bits of food" for men and wildcats.
Choosing a suitable spot for our camp we would fasten our dogs, and each go
his own way and kill as many rabbits as he could before dark. Then returning
laden to camp, we would gather a good supply of wood for our fire and settle
ourselves for the night. As the fire grew strong we would stick each of us a
rabbit on an improvised spit, and when these were roasted have supper. Then
we cleaned our guns and fed our dogs, and by and by roasted another rabbit
apiece and made our second supper. Even then we were not too well satisfied!
Two rabbits of an evening per man may seem rather much to him who all his
life has had his fresh meat, butter and bacon and beans and bread, and many
other foods at each meal. But Twill here place it on record that two rabbits
straight in one evening, in the face of violent exercise and the all
out-doors dining and living room we were in, did but barely satisfy the
pangs of hunger for a short time.

About the last of February
something impelled me to make a trip out south-eastward of the lake. Taking
Francis with me, we packed our sled with fish enough to provide for our dogs
and ourselves for four or five days, and started. We took turns in going
ahead on snowshoes, and as our dogs were fresh we made good time. Early the
second day we came to a solitary lodge of Indians, and entering it found it
was the home of Mr. Firing Stony, of whom I already have spoken in this
book. He and his family were in a starving state, and they told us of others
farther on similarly situated, whom they had seen some ten days before. We
gave them some of our fish and told them to make all haste towards the lake,
and then we pushed on. But, after two days' search, failing to find any more
lodges, we turned back and again came to Firing Stony's camp. They had moved
a short distance nearer the lake, but being exceedingly weak, could move
only slowly. Firing Stony had tracked deer and hunted them for two days, but
had failed to kill any, and now his large family was entirely without food.
We had only two small fish left. These I gave to the mother to prepare, and
we made our meal of them that night. Early next morning, taking Firing Stony
with us, we set off for the lake, bidding the family follow us as fast as
they could. I confess that I was never very much good at anything like
vigorous exercise taken on an empty stomach, and while these thirty miles
were long and difficult to Francis and myself, they must have been a very
heavy strain upon our half-famished companion. He was plucky, though, and
kept up well. Early in the afternoon we reached the Mission, and very soon
my wife was preparing a good meal of such food as we had.

We were hungry, but our guest
was famishing and had to be carefully fed, especially after such a run
through the deep snow. Towards evening he said lie was all right, and would
return to meet his family. So we loaded him with fish and told him to rest
by the way, and we would come on the morrow and help him and his family into
the Mission. To witness this man's intense interest in those dependent upon
him, to see that he was willing to sacrifice himself, if necessary, on their
behalf, was very stimulating to our optimism for the future of this people.
In this man, notwithstanding the centuries of vice and ignorance, the germ
of divinity was quite apparent.

The next evening we had the
entire family in camp beside us, and our women were doing what they could to
relieve their necessities. In a few days the little ones and their elders
began to look like different people. What was mere existence to us was to
them a feast.

During the early part of the
season the wolves had killed several of the horses and colts of the Indians,
so on one of my trips I secured a small vial of strychnine, and used it with
deadly effect. By the middle of March I had poisoned twenty-eight wolves and
several foxes, and with these was able to buy a few articles of clothing and
two small sacks of barley meal. My plan was to put a little poison into a
small cube of wildcat fat, which is very soft and melts with little heat.
Then I would chop up some fish and scatter them around where 1 had placed
the baits. I handled the poison very carefully, as I did not want to kill
any clogs with it, and moreover, the natives had a prejudice against using
it. Late in the evening I would drive with my dogs several miles to the end
of the lake, and there place the baits, and next morning, before daylight, I
would be making across the ice as fast as my dogs could carry me, gathering
up the results in wolves or foxes, or untouched baits, with which I came
home. In this way I ran but little risk of poisoning any other than the
animals I was after.

One day I had quite a run of
good luck. The evening before I had noticed the tracks of a fox near home,
and as I did not want to place poison so near the house, I set a small one-springed
trap at the place. In the morning, on my way to where the baits were placed,
I noticed that the little trap, to which I had fastened a short stick, had
been dragged out on the lake. Farther on I again crossed the trail of the
dragged trap, now striking for the shore. Continuing my course, I came to
the baits, and found a big grey wolf and a red fox stiff and stark. Lashing
these on my sled, I gathered up the unused bait, and returning drove to the
spot where my trap had been pulled into the woods. Here I tied the dogs, put
on my snowshoes, and started on the trail. I had not gone far when I found
the stick which had been attached to the trap, and said to myself, "Now then
for a long chase, for that trap is small and the chain attached is also
small and short." But presently I came to where the heavy snow had bent a
thick bush over, making a sort of den, into which my trap had been dragged.
Picking up a stick I shoved it into the den. Immediately I heard the jingle
of the chain of the trap, and before I could withdraw the stick a large fox
jumped past me and made for the forest as fast as he could go.

I saw that he was a fine
fellow, beautifully marked. I saw also that he had the trap on one of his
front feet, and, determined not to lose my quarry, I pushed after him as
fast as I could. For the first hour or two, aided by the thick brush and the
rabbit-paths, he kept ahead of me, but towards noon I chased him out into a
more open country, where the snow was deep and loose, and here I saw plainly
I was gaining ground. Presently I saw the snow flying ahead of me, and
rushing in caught the fellow digging out an old burrow which was covered
with snow, and had not been used that winter at least, but which must have
been an old lair of his, as he had made straight for it. My first grip was
at his tail, and the white tip of this came off in my hand. The next catch I
had him by one of his hind legs, and then I paused and thought what I should
do. If I pulled him out, he would doubtless bite me. I felt about in the
snow and was fortunate in securing a small stick. And now I pulled Mr. Fox
out, and tapped his nose for him so effectually that he was stunned, and
then I killed him.

Throwing the fox over my
shoulder, I struck out straight for home. The sharp chase in the keen air
had given me a rousing appetite, but before getting my dinner I thought I
would bring in some fish to thaw, in order to have them ready to feed my
dogs when I brought them home. As I entered the fish-house I heard something
stir, and giving the pile of frozen fish a shake, saw a mink rush out of the
pile and make for a small hole in the roof. Hurriedly grasping a fish-stick,
I ran to meet him, and as he ,jumped from the roof I caught him and killed
him. Thus I had as the result of one morning's sport a big wolf, a red fox,
a cross fox, and a mink, which as things went in those days was a straight
run of good luck.

One evening Mr. Firing Stony
came to me and said, "I wish you would give me a bait or two and let me try
my luck with them. My snares and traps are of no use." I answered, "You are
too careless; you would poison somebody." But he pressed for them, so I gave
him three baits and he went away happy. But as soon as he saw the sparks
flying out of my chimney the next morning, which was long before daylight,
he came in laughing and said, You knew better than I, for, just as you told
me, I have poisoned my best dog. There she was, lying stiff dead when I made
the fire just now." "Well," I said, "I did not want to give you those
baits." "I know," he answered, "and I was careful, but that dog was a
notorious thief."

Not long after this Firing
Stony invited inc to his tent, and as I approached the spot I became aware
through my olfactory nerves that he had made a successful hunt at last, for
certainly something that smelled good was boiling in that kettle. Before I
really knew what it was, a thrill of joy went through my whole being. Right
here I want the reader to know that I am not more epicurean than most
humanity; but when you are always hungry for change of fare, or for food
itself, you become very susceptible to the smell of good food cooking.

You are welcome," said mine
host, and I answered, "What strange thing have you been about?" His wife
answered, "He has gone and found a bear." Sure enough, presently there were
dished up to me some delicious bear ribs. I ate what I could and took the
rest home with me, as this was an Indian custom and exceedingly convenient
at times. I will never in this life while memory lasts forget how delicious
that fat bear-meat was.

It came out that my friend
was tracking a moose, and in doing so came upon a bear's den and succeeded
in killing the old one and two cubs. Next morning, taking my dogs, we went
and brought in the rest of the meat, I getting half of it as my share, and
the following day started early to intercept and follow up if possible the
trail of the moose. But after hours of heavy snowshoeing and wading and
crawling, we found that some wolves had run the moose away from us. Tired
and disappointed, we reached home late that night.

About the end of March
Indians began to straggle in, bringing little or no provisions, but glad to
fall back with us on the food supply of the lake. It was about this time,
when Francis and I were rushing the whip-sawing, that one day the boxing
came off in my hands and the back of the saw split my nose and lips, cut my
chin, and pretty nearly knocked my front teeth down my throat. Fortunately
we had a supply of sticking plaster, and while I held the parts together in
turn my wife deftly fastened them with the plaster. I was unable either to
speak or to masticate my food for several days, and was forced to subsist on
sucker broth. But I could continue my work at the sawing, and my wounds
closed and healed in an extraordinarily short time, demonstrating the fact
that after all what we called hard fare was really health producing.

I was but nicely over my
painful wounds when Samson came in. His tent was hardly in place when I was
invited over to have a meal with him. I had felt hungry all that winter, but
the last few days of fish broth had intensified that feeling. Now here was
what seemed to me a feast for a king—the tongue and boss of a fat buffalo,
some pounded meat and marrow- fat, and the ham of a porcupine. Many a
sumptuous repast have I since enjoyed in palatial homes, many a dining-car
meal have I partaken of since that meal in my friend Samson's lodge, but of
none of these have I such pleasant recollections as of this in the skin
lodge, spread on newly cut spruce brush and served in homely style.
Nevertheless, as Samson related his winter's experiences, and I listened and
ate, this latter was done sparingly, for there were others to be thought of,
and to these also such a spread would come as a heaven-send.

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